


Better Learn How To Kneel

by leiascully



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bible, Community: betteronvicodin, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-29
Updated: 2007-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-03 06:20:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Of all people, you're the savior of mankind?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Learn How To Kneel

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: AU  
> A/N: Written for [**betteronvicodin**](http://community.livejournal.com/betteronvicodin/): AU Prompt 99 (House is Jesus, Wilson is Judas, etc.). Many thanks to [**savemoony**](http://savemoony.livejournal.com/) for her beta powers! Also to [**sangria_lila**](http://sangria-lila.livejournal.com/), [**geminus**](http://geminus.livejournal.com/), [**phoebesmum**](http://phoebesmum.livejournal.com/), Wikipedia, and the inexhaustible [**imnotsatan**](http://imnotsatan.livejournal.com/) for their excellent insight into the personalities of the apostles. Title is from U2's "Mysterious Ways".   
> Disclaimer: _House M.D._ and all related characters are the property of Shore Z, Bad Hat Harry, and Fox. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

"Jesus Christ," muttered Wilson.

"Yes?" House said lazily, examining his toes in their sandals.

"I can't believe this," Wilson said, one hand on his hip and the other waving in front of his face. "I cannot believe this. Of all people, you're the savior of mankind?"

"Just goes to show you," House said, "God's got great taste. And a wicked sense of irony." He cupped his hands to his bearded mouth. "Thanks, Dad! I owe you one!"

Wilson sat down in a little heap on the side of the road. "Oh, God. I wish I were dead."

House cocked his head and looked at him. "Hope He didn't take that literally."

"You're making jokes," Wilson said hopelessly. "I have a beard, I'm wearing what feels like a potato sack, we're trapped in Jerusalem, and you're making jokes."

"We're not in Jerusalem," said House sitting down as Wilson buried his face in his hands. "Jerusalem's a city. You're a Jew and you don't know we're in Judea? Besides which we're in the middle of nowhere without an ass in sight, and...hello." He craned his head at something Wilson couldn't see. "Forget about the ass."

"Jesus," came Cuddy's voice like a whip. Wilson's head snapped up. "There better be a good explanation for all of this."

"I'm gathering the faithful," said House, spreading his arms.

Cuddy, hands braced on her hips and her hair loose, stared rather eloquently at the nowhere around them. "Oh yeah," she said, drier than dust. "They're just flocking to you."

"They'll be along," House said. "I've got some ideas on what to do while they're in transit, though. Come and sit at my feet and I'll give you an example."

Wilson and Cuddy both gave him suspicious glares.

"Lessons," House said hastily. "Parables. I'm pretty much constrained to that, right? I can't even swear."

"I bet I can," said Cuddy. She tugged at her robe. It was rather shapeless, but wrapped around in a way that managed to showcase her cleavage and hips. "Just guessing I'm not one of the straightedge apostles."

"I always knew you were a..." House started, but began to cough. He clutched his neck, continuing to cough. "Righteous lady worthy of salvation," he choked out, rubbing at his throat and glancing sidelong at the sky. "Great. She's the Magdalene, maybe the most notorious...of all time and I can't call her a...woman of dubious morals?" He cast a sour eye at the clouds. "So much for this son-of-God gig."

"Of all people," moaned Wilson. "Why did it have to be him?"

"Hey," said House. "You're talking about the guy who will have died for your sins. Use a capital H."

"Not _my_ sins," Wilson muttered.

"Especially yours, Judas," House retorted. "If it weren't for your sins, who's to say I'd die at all?"

Wilson opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off. "There you are!" said Cameron. Foreman and Chase followed her, both of them sunburned and bearded. Cameron looked like a twelve year old boy hoping for the first shadow of a mustache to appear and her face was smudged with dirt.

"Flocking," said House, his voice smug and his expression beatific. "Look at the young ones, coming for the Word."

"Teacher," said Cameron, and knelt at House's feet.

"John," House said, and put his hand on her head. "Faithful John. Are you ready to do my works?"

"Always," said Cameron, looking up at him, her face glowing under the smudges. Chase and Foreman stood by, Foreman with his arms crossed over his broad chest. "Peter," House nodded to him. "And James, the lamb." Chase shifted his weight.

"I'm not the lamb, Teacher," he said in his broad accent. "Just a fisherman."

"You shall be a fisher of men," House promised. "But you're gentle as a lamb, even if your hands will never be soft. We have work to do, and there are battles ahead, but you will be mild. Not like our stone here."

Foreman looked a little grim. "We have far to go, Teacher, and strength is needed."

"Yes," House agreed. "We'll also need sustenance. Go forth, my apostles. Find us a meal for tonight."

"Huh," said Wilson, when the younger three had left. "That was...almost tender. Out of character for you. Don't you usually devour your children?"

"Hey," said House, spreading his hands. "I'm the Messiah now. Got to live up to the role. Plus, they stick around longer if you gentle them along at first." He tapped his nose. "Old family secret."

"I thought the family secret was flinging your followers into peril and angst," Cuddy said.

"My dear skeptical Mary," House said, pulling her comfortably against his side, "you of all people know that the reward is greater the longer you string them along. Delayed gratification has always been your calling, hasn't it?"

"If you weren't become the son of God, I'd kick your ass from here to Timbuktu," she grumbled. "If it even exists yet."

House grinned. "God is good."

Wilson started to roll his eyes, looked heavenward, and stopped with a look of panic on his face. "Oh, God. I mean." He bit down on what was clearly the cusp of an expletive. "I'll...go find some wine." He walked away quickly, peeking back over his shoulder.

\+ + + +

"What are we doing here?" Wilson asked, when he had a moment alone with Cuddy.

"Spreading the Word, apparently," she said, sorting through a container of roasted chickpeas.

"Why him? Why us? He's not Christian. He's not even Jewish. He's a dyed-in-the-wool atheist, and now he's the son of God?"

She fixed him with a look that was pure Cuddy, regardless of the desert around them and the rough robes they were wearing. "It's House. You always knew he was different."

"Different, yes!" Wilson lowered his voice. "Not godly. Not Messianic. I don't even remember how we got here."

"Hands of a healer," mused Cuddy, looking across the little clearing to where House sat with the apostles. "He doesn't even limp now."

"Have you ever even read the New Testament?" Wilson's voice squeaked a little.

"Have you?"

"No," he mumbled, blushing a little, "but I know how it ends."

"Let go," said Cuddy, patting his arm. "It doesn't matter how we got here, since we can't get out. We're in the story now. Might as well live it. They don't even seem to remember." She jerked her thumb at Cameron, Chase, and Foreman.

Wilson rubbed the back of his neck where his tunic scratched. "An epic tale."

"Kind of takes the mystery out of it," she said. "Except that I'm sure he hasn't got his pockets full of rifampicin, so how is he going to heal lepers?"

"Well," said Wilson slowly, "at least it makes sense of all those icons of blue-eyed Jesuses."

"I suppose," said Cuddy, rising.

"I don't understand how you can be so calm about this," he snapped. "Do you think this is going to end well for anyone?"

Her gaze was level. "You tell me, Judas. It's your betrayal, isn't it?"

He colored. "You're one to talk. I've always stood by him."

"Not always," she said, pointedly and a little sadly.

They both stared at House, who was leaning back in the first flickering light of a fire, telling a story to the other apostles, who ranged themselves around him like students in an amphitheatre. The desert wind blew over them and the memories of glass walls and indoor plumbing seemed to blow away with it.

\+ + + +

They lost track of how long it was, lost track of miracles and tyrants overthrown or undermined. A hundred rough cups of wine, or a thousand, olives and chickpeas by the cartload, and everlasting dust: that was what they remembered. And House, in the middle of it all, seemed to thrive. Cuddy and Wilson watched him carefully, but he was sleeping better and he was eating right, and the limp was gone, except that now and again, after a miracle or a long parable, he'd stumble a little.

Over the weeks and months (same couple of dusty little towns, same old city plagued with sinners, another joyful welcome, another rejection), he stumbled more and more. Cuddy washed his feet, her fingers stroking the tough arches and the callused toes.

"How long is this going to go on?" she murmured.

"To the logical end," he said, staring out at something in the dark. "This is the biggest puzzle the world ever tangled together. Might as well wait to see how it all unravels."

"You and your eternal need for substantiation," she said, wiping her damp hands on her robe.

"You and your faith," he said in a tone that was nearly affectionate. "I didn't ask for this."

"I know," she said.

"I don't even believe in this." He waved a hand vaguely. "All this God and Jesus, End of Days stuff. Followers, hanging onto my every word. That's not the kind of man I deserved to be. I can't make any sense of it. It just comes over me."

"God works in mysterious ways," she said, looking up at him.

He made a skeptical noise in his throat. "I'd leave if I could. Sorry to drag you into this."

She smiled. "And think how boring our lives would have been without you." Her grin turned wry. "Although I'm pretty sure Simon Peter was angling for your job."

His laughter came out as a huff. "He always was."

\+ + + +

"What about them?" Wilson nodded towards the apostles, who were busy making ready for the supper.

"They'll be fine," House said dismissively. "Peter especially. He's got destinies to fulfill. Obligations to repay."

"Obligations to whom? Did he get caught up with usurers or something?"

"Kid's from the docks," House said. "I pulled him out. He's going to be the big thing after I leave. Founding my church on him."

"On Simon Peter?" Wilson said skeptically, glancing at Foreman. "Are you sure that's the diplomatic way to handle things?"

"Sure," House said. "John'll forgive me. He's kind of a girl anyway. And James isn't going to say a thing."

"James has been with you the longest," said Wilson. "You don't think he deserves some kind of reward?"

"He'll get his reward, just not earthly. Anyway, he's a little too close to John. Eerie." House mock-shivered. "Definitely Peter. He's got the chutzpah for it, even if he's going to deny me."

Wilson shifted uncomfortably. "You don't know that."

"I do," said House, momentarily gazing into the middle distance. "And I know about you, too, Judas. Don't worry about it." He grinned, looking suddenly very feral and otherworldly. "The kiss will be worth it."

"I just," fumbled Wilson. "I wanted to...."

"Don't worry," said House firmly, putting a hand on Wilson's shoulder. "I can't finish this without you. And I'm weary. It's time for endings."

\+ + + +

He touched Cameron's hand. All around them the apostles were eating and making merry. There was the clink of plates and the sound of ripping crusts. Cameron leaned in.

"Yes, Teacher?"

"Take care of the women," House said gruffly. "I know she wasn't always your favorite, but she deserves better than she'll get from the rest of them. Take care of the women."

Cameron nodded slowly. Chase watched quietly from his spot at the table. The Teacher looked at him with those piercing eyes, and Chase had a sudden vision of swords. He could hear strange words, and there was a pillar, and swords again, and blood and wings and light. Chase held the Teacher's gaze and the Teacher nodded, his lips thin in the circle of his beard, and turned away to Foreman.

\+ + + +

"Dying?" Cuddy said, her voice like birdsong in the quiet of the garden. It was late. They sat together under an olive tree.

"You knew how the story would end," he said.

"I thought maybe it was different now," she said. "You sacrificing yourself for my sins? In another life that would be a joke. Now it's just a damn shame."

"You're taunting me," he said. She smiled a smile that was somehow full of the edges of her teeth. "But you were always there." He stroked her hair, his fingertips tangling in her curls. She lay her head upon his knee.

"Life will be different without you," she said.

"You'll make it," he said. "Marseilles. Take the Word to the people, and take the Grail. You're going to be my hope through a long dark age."

"And I thought John was the disciple you loved," she murmured.

"John has his own work to do," he said, his rough fingertips tracing the line of her cheekbone. Even in the dark, her eyes looked very blue.

"Good works," she said, looking away, her words tinged with bitterness.

"You've done plenty," he told her, and kissed the top of her head. "Go and comfort my mother." Her expression turned mulish, and he changed his tone. "Please. If this ends, maybe we can find ourselves again."

She sighed and rose, her bare feet silent as she followed the path through the moonlight. House waited for a long moment, staring blankly at the trees.

"Judas," he said quietly. Wilson came up at his shoulder.

"Jesus," he said, and there was a strange twist to the words, as if he wanted to say another name.

"Thank you," House said.

"Why did you make me do it?" Wilson pressed. "Of all people, why was it my burden?"

"It had to be you," House said sharply. "They're my followers. They're not my friends. And Mary sure as hell wasn't going to do it. She's got too much guilt from living. You're the only one of them who can bear it." He stroked Wilson's face. "Quit kvetching. There are different ways to look at any event. In a way, this is the greatest favor any of you are doing me. Release."

Wilson sighed. "Betrayal with a kiss. How awful."

"How theatrical," House corrected. "And if you really feel that bad about it, you could try to make it up to me."

Wilson's eyebrows quirked in a question. "Make it up?"

House leaned in and kissed him in the dark of the garden. The grassy night smell rose up around them.

\+ + + +

"Go then!" said House, leaning on his cane. "Do my bidding. Spread the Word throughout this hospital. And get me a Reuben and fries. Your lord commands it."

The Fellows grumbled as they gathered files. Cameron teetered on her high heels. Chase tripped over a chair. Foreman mumbled something about a God complex.

House shook his head as if he'd half-heard a line of music he couldn't dislodge. "God complex," he said to himself. "Nice."

Cuddy and Wilson came in with stormy faces. "House! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Cuddy was working herself up to a class-A snit. He could hear the quiver of outrage in her voice.

He swiveled to face them. "How do you feel about bringing about the End of Days?"

Wilson put his hands on his hips. "House...."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Of all the doctors in all the hospitals, you had to end up in mine," she snapped. "God, why me?"

"I think I've heard something about mysterious ways," House said, and grinned.


End file.
